


An Ember Is Only A Gust Away From A Flame

by Serie11



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Introspection, Minor Violence, Pre-Canon, Young My Unit | Byleth, byleth is an eerie child and jeralt has just accepted that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-10-19 18:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20661806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serie11/pseuds/Serie11
Summary: Jeralt has always known that there is something different about his child.





	An Ember Is Only A Gust Away From A Flame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cricket_aria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cricket_aria/gifts).

Byleth is a strange child.

She never laughs or cries, or yells or begs. She looks up at Jeralt with wide, blue eyes, so like her mother’s, and accepts what he says, does what he commands. He supposes that another man would be grateful for this, to have a daughter so ready to do as he wills.

It unsettles him.

He is used to the strong willed knights of the church, of the grasping desires of the mercenaries that he makes his company with these days. Byleth is quiet, and is almost always in his shadow, exactly where he wants her. She is well behaved and does her chores around camp willingly. An example that some of the other mercenaries could follow.

Out on the battlefield, it’s a slightly different story.

Byleth has always been quiet, but when she fights she turns that into steely efficiency. She darts around people, dodging attacks like she can see them coming. Jeralt’s heart still stops, every time she is in danger. He shouldn’t have her out here, but he can’t bring himself to not train her. It’s a dangerous world, for her more than others. There is a weighty doom above her head that she does not know about, and he must prepare her for it. He must.

He sends her into battle and does not remember when she is run through with a lance; he sends her into battle and does not remember when an arrow pierces her throat. Why would he? Neither of those things happened, not really. Just like how she did not get stabbed, just like how she has not been felled by an axe. Jeralt worries about Byleth, but she always seems so sure, so able in her movements, dodging critical blows by a hair’s breadth. It must be her luck, he thinks to himself, even as he pushes her in her training in camp at night. It must be her mother, watching over her, he thinks as he shows her how to hold her sword most effectively.

Byleth has always been a strange child, so quiet, eyes so deep and watchful. She nods when he warns her to be careful, to always stay by his side on the battlefield so that he can protect her. He does not remember when she takes blows meant for him, because those things never happen. Instead he sees how she strikes as quickly as a viper when enemies approach them, how he has to hurry to keep up with her, and wonders instead if he’s getting old.

After their latest battle, he ruffles Byleth’s hair and smiles as she wrinkles her nose but doesn’t lean away.

“You did good, kid,” he says, and she nods. “You’re getting better every day. Soon you’ll be able to keep up with me.”

“I have help,” Byleth says quietly, and Jeralt nods.

“I know. You have me, and the rest of the mercs. But standing alone on a battlefield is something different to that.”

Byleth shakes her head slightly. “Even then, I wouldn’t be alone.”

Jeralt huffs. “I’m always with you, no matter the distance that separates us. Keep that in mind, okay?”

Byleth regards him silently for a few seconds, and like always he finds himself trying to parse the meaning in her wide eyes. She blinks, and he still doesn’t have an answer; he’s never gotten one that’s satisfied him. He doesn’t know why he thought that might start to change now.

“I promise,” she says, nodding her head, and Jeralt accepts her words.

“Then we should go – our next mission is a few days journey from here. You ready?”

Byleth nods, then yanks on his sleeve as he starts to turn. Jeralt freezes, and the arrow flies harmlessly past them both. Byleth’s eyes are fierce and angry and terrified all of a sudden, and Jeralt deals with the stray bandit they had missed extra quickly, just to get her to stop looking like that.

“I’m okay, kid,” he tells her gently, and she nods, looking down at the ground so she doesn’t have to meet his gaze. Still, when she attaches herself a little closer to his side for the rest of the night, he doesn’t comment on it. If she hadn’t stopped him from turning into the path of the arrow, he might have been quite seriously injured. Luckily she spotted it in time. Although… hadn’t he been blocking her view of the archer?

He shakes the thought off. There’s no other way that she could have known the archer was there. He passes her a bowl filled with their dinner, and studies her for a few seconds. He’s always been searching – always wondering why she acts like she does. Her immense luck, her quick actions, her far seeing eyes… maybe…

He shakes the thought away. Byleth is no different than he is, surely. There can’t be. There is something strange about his child, but that does not dissuade him from loving her all the same.

* * *

Far away, a girl on a throne watches events unfold, and whispers secrets into a willing ear. Byleth is how she can see the rest of the world. It wouldn’t do for her to lose that link, so she rewinds time, and rewinds time, and rewinds time, until there is only one possible outcome for the situation.

After all. Byleth is going to save the world, one day.


End file.
